Unanonymity
by Arianna555
Summary: He came back three times. And every time she didn't take the chance. And now...is there a pattern for regrets? [one shot, implying lit]


**Unanonymity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own GG, although right about now I'm really sort of wishing I did. Well, not really. I want to make suggestions that will be taken. I want to nominate people I know to at least help write the episodes. ;-) Okay, enough of that...*sigh* The song lyrics used are from "All I Need Is A Miracle," by Mike and the Mechanics. On the Road belongs to Jack Kerouac, and the opinion in that one sentence; the general idea came from Paris in TTR, not me.

**A/N:** Saw the song. Knew I have over four other fics going. Couldn't resist... It's set in Rory's senior year of Yale. (Paris is in the same suite again.) Some of the stuff in the show's past happened, and of course there's the other 3 years we haven't seen yet. All is explained as much as needed. I actually had more fun writing this than anything in a while...maybe it's a good omen or something? =P

Dedicated to Ali, for suggesting this song for a fic and putting out the challenge! To Steph because you're a great friend and the reason I could make a banner for this! To all my literati friends at SH.org because I love you guys. And a huge thanks to Elise for being honest and helpful and wonderful!

*****

_ And I know you were never right_

_ I'll admit I was never wrong_

_ I could never make up my mind_

_ I made it up as I went along._

_______

She grew up in a world filled with second chances. A place where mistakes were not really mistakes; not in the way that she views them now. It was a place with people who cared and forgave; a place where two easily found doors opened when one closed, instead of the world's normal, hard-to-find one.

And she knows from so many varied experiences...her first failing grade. The class she shouldn't have taken. The stupid choices. Most places, it's not like that, and people and places don't even pretend to be perfect. But she is notorious for forgetting things she knows when faced with things that are really important. Important like this; important like realizations too late and fixing things she's said when she is wrong.

She picks up the phone as quickly as she can, almost dropping it in her haste. 

"--the writing sounds like On the Road. Edit, edit, edit; you're losing the issue here--yes, talk about open-mindedness; it's exactly what you're not showing--no, that isn't meant to be a compliment!" 

"Paris!" Rory shouts.

Paris covers the phone with her hand. "Ten minutes."

"Forget it."

Rory hurries to her bag, still unpacked from the last weekend in Stars Hollow. Afterwards...she'd been sitting in her room for three days, hanging around, waiting for spring break to be over and to go back to concentrating on work. But truthfully, she does not want to go back to her usual routine. There is something missing and she's felt it ever since that night...as recent as it is, it feels partly like it is forever ago and partly like it was only yesterday. It's gnawing at her and in the back of her mind she's known what she should have done and has been trying to get up the courage to actually do it.

So now she is.

If she can find her damn phone. She pulls out book after book and various random things and shoves them on to the bed, finally finding it at the very bottom. 

She didn't leave it on, did she? Because she just can't deal with this right now. She knows that if she opens her cell phone and the battery is dead, she will cry, right now, right here. She needs to do this and has been thinking about it too long. It's just too much. God, why can't she think when it's important? Decisions are impossible. Even when they'd order pizza back at home, it was Lorelai who did the choosing, usually.  It was lucky they liked to eat, because when offered two things, 'both' was often her answer...

It opens; the light is on, and she breathes. Now she just needs to dial. Press ten numbers and hold it to her ear and she'll be done.

Press ten numbers and hold it to her ear and she still won't know what to say. But this is the last chance and that she knows, even though nothing concrete was said to that effect. She still knows him; knows how to read his eyes, at least when he's not consciously hiding how he feels. Maybe he even wanted her to see that. Wanted her to understand the things he still couldn't say. It is the third time he has returned and... Good things are supposed to come in threes. Do regrets come in threes too?

Maybe they can come in twos for her...? If she can save this last one.

She swallows and presses the numbers. She doesn't need to look up the number; she has been repeating it in her head since she wrenched it out of Luke, and twice before she even picked up the phone and ran her finger over the buttons...like climbing up a cliff and then walking back down, carrying the hang glider. 

Lane used to tease her about her being scared of heights. But now she is going up there and she is going to jump.

It's ringing.

It's ringing.

"Jess."

She freezes, voices shouting in her head not to repeat that call back at her high school graduation, when she let him hang up. She is not the kind of person who pulls the same trick just to let him know how it feels; she's not one for revenge. Especially not now. It's currently pretty much an even scale, even if it might not be for much longer.

But he knows her too; maybe too well. "Huh. Is this an anonymous call?"

_Deep breaths._ She nods, even though he can't see her. "It's anonymous..."

"This gives a whole new meaning to that word." There is a slight note of amusement in his voice, and Rory isn't sure if it's there because he's over it and over her, or because he's just trying to make it easier for both of them. She'd like it to be the latter.

"Unanonymous, then," she replies, copying him.

"Really."

"I'm good at unanonymity."

"Is that even a word?"

"I don't know!" she bursts out, frustrated. "Look, I just..."

"Three times, Rory." His voice is quiet, and as usual he's hiding the pain. "Three times, and you had a chance every damn time! But no, you're running away and saying no and it doesn't hurt anyone, right? Just you, when you watch me walk away? Huh. You're still living in that little fairytale of a town and I was there for a while; I know what it's like."

He never talks this much. But he's continuing. "I know what it's like because I was there and then I went back. It was a stupid mistake, okay? And you know why I went back?"

She can picture his face, and if she's right, she has rarely, if ever, seen him like this.

"Jess..."

A voice in the background calls; whoever it is, the person is nowhere near Jess, but it's loud enough that Rory can hear it from her side of the phone.

"Who's that?" she asks, shakily.

"Nice change of subject." He pauses and almost sighs. "It's Lily. Look, I have to go..."

So regrets do come in threes. 

She's never going to get to say anything. To tell him her side. To apologize, because she owes him one too and can't get herself to say it.

"I came back for you," he tells her. 

"I'm glad," Rory says softly.

"And because I like writing in books," he explains. "No one else I know will let me. No one else understands it anyway." So he's trying to make her think it doesn't matter? She swallows without knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry."

"I was there because I'd forgotten stuff there. And now I have it, okay? Most of it." 

He'd had an apartment in Stars Hollow for a while; a short while. One of the few Taylor never owned. He'd contemplated the holding hands and skipping when he finished fixing it up, but he had decided against it. At least, Rory has never seen that happening, and she doubts it ever would, first because she knows both Jess and Luke, and second, because both knew she would pay to see that, that she would find a way, and that she would never let them live it down.

She'd laughed so hard the first time Jess told her that, everyone in the diner had stared at her, and Dean had later asked her why he had never heard her laugh that way before. She doesn't remember what she had said in answer to him, but it was something offhand; something unimportant.

"I think all three times I came back were because of you." Jess pauses, and she is startled at all his admissions. This is the stuff he used to hide. Maybe a phone conversation is a good idea...he can't expect her to read things in his eyes, and if he wants her to know, he has to say them. She has never heard him this close to letting it go, and...

"Jess!" The small voice in the background calls his name again, growing closer, surprisingly loud. "Weren't we going fifteen minutes ago?"

"How old is she?" Rory asks him, a desperate attempt to be a part of his life again, even if it is just a small part. A friend. A pen pal? An occasional correspondent. She isn't sure that would be better than never really seeing him again. It would hurt every time, and it would turn the list of three regrets into four, five, ten...

"Lily's twelve," he replies. "I'm stuck with her for the afternoon..."

She wishes she were in Lily's place right now.

"Goodbye, Rory."

She gets it. He didn't say goodbye, the night after he crashed her car by accident, and he didn't stop in the next morning to do so either. She remembers the look on his face when she appeared behind him in the park, and she thinks that if she even managed to appear behind him at his father's hot dog stand in California, the look on his face wouldn't be the same and his rarely seen, real smile, wouldn't be there. He knows what he's doing and he's saying goodbye on purpose. And it hurts.

"Goodbye, Jess."

She's never been good at last-minute confessions, carefully placed to get someone to stay on the phone. Said in just the right way so the other person will know you are sorry and know how much you mean it. It isn't going to happen; a door is closing and she can't find any others opening just yet. Even if she could, she's not sure she would want to walk through.

She hears him breathing on the phone for a couple minutes. There's no way she will hang up before he does, and he seems to feel the same way. At least it's kind of nice to know he isn't eager to leave.

Lily calls after him a third time, and he hesitates. She can tell he's about to possibly say something else, but this time she has no idea what. The breathing she hears stops. It is either the phone moving away from his ear, or a quick intake of breath before he admits it all. All what? Everything she wants to hear? He's not that kind of guy. She's glad he's not. She just wishes all that stuff she wants to hear could be true. Could still be true. But she guesses that after three times of trying to convey it, what he feels and what he wants, it really is all over. Being stubborn isn't always better and she has learned her lesson. Maybe they both need to move on. Tears catch in her throat and she considers just yelling something; saying "I love you" one more time.

The first time. She never said it outright, but he did.

Click.

This chance is gone.

_____

_I went out of my way just to hurt you_

_The one I shouldn't hurt at all._

_I thought I was being cool_

_I thought I was being strong._

_But it's always the same old story_

_You never know what you've got 'till it's gone._

_____

He doesn't understand why simple things like closing an apartment, renewing a license, and fixing his car have to take so much preparation; so much planning. He also doesn't understand why things like this always mean he has to go somewhere he doesn't necessarily want to be, face someone he knows it will be hard to face, and hurt both of them. Can't Luke just go shut the stupid door of his apartment for him, throw away the key, and be done with it?

People in Stars Hollow do things right. They give people second chances, and they still allow someone who used up both chances about five times over to come back, especially if it means carrying something out the way it is meant to be done. He--someone--needs to say a total of what, twenty words and one signature to finish this up? But he has to come all the way out to Connecticut. All the way across the country.

He got the phone call from Luke almost a week ago. He doesn't remember complaining much.

That call from Yale, hearing her voice tremble as she struggled to find what she wanted to say, and him saying what he'd said...it had looked like a clear attempt, on his part, to break off anything that had ever been between them. To finish their connection and to act like it didn't matter so much anymore. Had he really sounded like that? Had he really been trying to? He wants to think now that that is the last thing he wanted, but something is whispering from the back of his mind that maybe it was right. The tie between them is wearing, and as it comes closer to breaking it hurts more and more. He wanted to believe that she would come after him, all three times he returned, but he should have remembered the uncertainty she'd have. Now that she seems to be considering it...it kills him that he basically had to say no.

But it is right that he's coming back again... That call was not a goodbye, as much as he'd tried to pretend it was and as much as she'd tried to echo him. She hadn't done a good job with that but his try was worse, if not comparatively, and he can't blame her.

He pulls into his old parking space; the place where he used to hide his car when he would sneak off to Wal-Mart from Stars Hollow High. And he glances at his watch. He's not walking into that diner to face her at the counter. He used to be able to do stuff like that, but now it's too hard to act like he really doesn't care. 

He takes the ever-present book out of his back pocket and leans against the other side of the car. She'll be driving off to Yale in a few minutes, although she'll be back in a couple days for the weekend... She had to come in for the festival they are still cleaning up after, in various places...he isn't sure what it was, but it must have been one of those specific-day ones; one that they just couldn't wait for the weekend to celebrate. She must have had fun. Hah. He wonders, had he been here, with their situation, if she or anyone would have tried to convince him to go.

She'll be back in two days.

How much time is this going to take?

How much time does he want this to take?

***

She finally stops the car, leans over into the backseat; manages to pull her backpack, stuffed with textbooks and binders, out of the space between the seat and the floor and over her shoulder. She stifles a complaint about its weight to no one in particular, and heads inside.

She isn't exactly sure why she's spent spring break commuting back and forth from Stars Hollow to New Haven. She had been planning to stay in Stars Hollow the whole time, originally. It might be her last spring break at home. But...mostly, it was that after the sudden shock and stupid mistakes she'd made that night, at the beginning, seeing him again...she needed to get away for just a little while. And after that...she needed some semblance of order; some routine she had to do, before sitting around--and coming up with millions of 'what if's--drove her crazy. Which seemed to be happening anyway, after that call.

Some goodbye.

What is wrong with her? What is wrong with saying yes once in a while? What is it about him that makes her so uncertain; so confused...and at the same time...

What wouldn't she give to get another chance? She wishes she had not walked back down the mountain with that hang glider...now she just wants to fly. And she feels like she'll do anything, even if nothing can be done. She doesn't have enough practice with these kinds of things; she's just not good at it. (And needs to be.)

Rory leans back into the chair, glancing out the front window. Luke passes by; catches her eye, startled. She looks back, questioning. Did he not expect her to be back? What's going on?

Does she even want to know?

_Some goodbye._ She can't stop thinking about it and wishes she could. Maybe it's better this way, just getting over it. Hurting, missing him...she'll forget about it soon? She can't make that a statement, even in her thoughts, because she doesn't actually think it will ever be true.

People say she's smart. Well, maybe she is, in some ways, but not like she wants to be now. Not when it comes to sudden decisions, and not when it comes to things that actually affect her life. She knew it at fifteen, in her sophomore year of high school: _"Trig, I can do. Guys, dating--forget it."_

Lorelai was right. _"Well, when it comes to matters of the heart, I'm afraid it all comes out in moron."_

Try complete idiocy. Blindness. Overcautiousness, stupidity, whatever.

She sighs and wonders again why Luke seemed so surprised to see her...

***

And he's there. He's right there, standing in the middle of the street, and he isn't trying to hide. She should have known he wouldn't, and she should have known he'd be here. What other reason could Luke possibly have for that look? She fights the urge to run in the other direction; to give him a taste of that. He's been trying. She's supposed to be the one who likes to talk it out.

Slowly, slowly, she walks forward. He waits, but then he does the same. A million things go through her head at the same time, but she doesn't say any of them. She isn't ready for this; he has to speak first. He looks about as confident as she feels. Maybe he can hold a facade over the phone, but not face to face with her. Not after consciously saying goodbye to her and meaning it. He thinks he knows at least the outline of what will come next.

"Rory..."

She swallows again. "Jess."

"Look, I..."

"I'm sorry." She'll say it, say it all, and maybe he doesn't want to hear it and maybe this isn't the right thing to do, but then it will be over and neither of them will have to worry about this anymore. This unresolved question won't still be hanging in the air between them, every time they meet. "I really am sorry. That I didn't say yes, that I made you keep calling and that I made you keep coming back, looking and wondering...I was too, and I didn't know how to get it across. I never knew how to communicate like you did, so I kept talking even though I wasn't saying the right things and I'm probably not saying them now either. I don't know what to do and I don't know why!"

"Yeah. It's okay," he says, and for the first time she can hear something in his voice; something that is not usually there.

"What?"

Instead of answering, he turns around, and she notices too the cars stopped behind them, waiting patiently. Not one horn has rung--that is the kind of town this is. He moves toward her and gently touches her arm, leading her toward the gazebo. She shivers. He hasn't touched her in years, and she hasn't realized how much she missed it. But when they reach the side of the street, they both enter the gazebo and sit down, and he moves away.

He shakes his head. "It was my fault."

"Jess..."

"I wasn't used to it, okay? I wasn't used to this. To places like this." He indicates everything around them. "So when things fall apart, I leave. It's something I've always done and it isn't good, but it just happens." He pauses. This is the hardest thing he's ever said to her. He's partly wishing they could have gotten this over with in the phone call and that she had stayed at Yale this weekend. But he's also glad he at least gets to see her face as he tells her, and he wishes it didn't have to hurt. 

"I know," she says softly. "But you came back. You came back three times! And every time I--"

He cuts her off. "Yeah. I don't know what I was doing either."

"I'm sorry! I said I was sorry! I meant to say yes; I meant to take those chances but I just didn't! I meant to try to fix things and to say it was okay, because it was okay, and I understood, but I didn't do it and I wish I had..."

"Rory." He wants to stop her. He hears the 'please' underneath it all and can't stand the idea of saying what he has to say, if she continues. But he wants to hear what she has to tell him anyway. He's made so many mistakes himself, so many more than she did, and she's willing to let it all go?

And her lips are on his. _No!_ is screaming inside his head but he doesn't listen and responds, wrapping his arms around her and standing up, kissing her, and he doesn't care who sees. Every time he's come back and had to leave, it's hurt, but this is the first time in years he has actually felt like breaking down. She tightens her arms around him, burying her face in the shoulder of his leather jacket and trying not to cry. She looks up into his brown eyes, and suddenly she knows what will happen when she lets go. There's nothing she can do to stop it. God, if there were anything...

Again, slowly, they sit down, his arm still around her. No one has stopped to stare; they can't hear anyone talking or commenting, thankfully...

She wants to speak, but he has to finish this before...

With the exception of tightening his arm around her shoulders as he talks, he is acting as if that kiss two minutes ago never happened. But she thinks she knows why. He begins where he'd left off, before she started cutting in.

"And I never got used to this, even...though there were good things in it too. It isn't me; I can't get used to it." He pauses. "I don't think it's what I'm looking for. And I don't know what I'm looking for."

Quietly, she says, "You've always wanted to be unconventional...doesn't everyone give people three chances? One outright no, one where they don't know what to say, and one where they wish they had said something different afterwards?" She looks away, and he can barely hear the rest of her sentence. "The 'yes' is always left out."

He laughs bitterly. "Maybe I'm becoming a conformist..."

She didn't expect it to hurt this much. And she didn't expect him to say it so clearly without actually saying the word 'no'. But she's half known this was coming, ever since she first saw him on the street, earlier today. He knew as well as she did what that goodbye on the phone meant, and now it is finalized; now it is really over, and she also knows she can't move on. This isn't ending, not the way most people think of ending; it's just breaking.

"Yeah, maybe," she almost whispers.

"I'm...I mean, I..." He wants to give an excuse; a reason that he might come back, but he doesn't want to promise anything. He thought that once they'd made this clear, and once they'd both accepted it, no matter how painful it was, it would get easier. That they would both be able to forget, most of it at least. But he doesn't want to forget. Not now...not yet.

She nods, trying hard to pretend it's okay.  

"I love you," she says.

He swallows hard. He's not going to say it.

"I love you too."

And the first time they finish the exchange is after it's over. 

His plane will be leaving in three hours.

­­_____

_If I ever catch up with you_

_I'm gonna love you for the rest of your life..._


End file.
